Fades to Black...
by Q-Chan
Summary: Because it all fades to black... Just a small taste of Wolfwood's past...


Fades to Black

Q-Chan

"Come on, Wolfie… Let me drive!" Vash tugged hard on Wolfwood's sleeve as the two drove along, the wind from the open window playing carelessly with his blonde bangs.

"Stop calling me 'Wolfie'… You can drive later. Besides, you don't know where we're going." Wolfwood flicked his arm a little, trying to get the gloved hands to let go. "This is a new jacket, would you mind not doing that?"

Vash held on tighter, "I'd know where we were going if you told me." He gave Wolfwood an adorable boyish grin. He got a pair of smoke blue eyes rolled back at him in return. "Jeez… What's wrong with you?"

"Well, for one, you're pulling on my brand new jacket sleeve…" Wolfwood became distant, his eyes fogging over with a cloud of memories.

Vash let his fingers fall away from Wolfwood's sleeve, moving a black-gloved hand in front of the traveling priest's eyes. "Wolfwood..?"

When he got no response, Vash gently placed his hands on the priest's shoulder and shook him, trying to bring him out of the fog. He wasn't worried about crashing into anything, it being a desert and all. They hadn't passed anything bigger than a tumbleweed in a few hours. "Wolfwood, come on, snap out of it… Please, you're scaring me…"

Putting his foot on the brake, Wolfwood stopped the car and cut the engine. He didn't bother with the Emergency Brake. The jeep wasn't going anywhere. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the seat, and in that instant, Vash knew it was more than just having his new jacket tugged on.

Wolfwood sat back up, opening his eyes in a small flutter. As he turned toward Vash a crystalline tear rolled down his sun-browned skin. "Would you like to drive..?"

Vash drove on in silence, glancing occasionally at his silent friend. He sat with his collar pulled up to his face, slouching against the door. His eyes were locked on something Vash couldn't see, and they were red and bloodshot. He'd stopped crying a little while ago, and Vash couldn't summon up the courage to ask what was wrong.

Gripping the wheel tighter, Vash shifted in his seat. The sound of his gloves echoed throughout the silent car. Wolfwood shifted heavily in his seat, bouncing the bench seat he and Vash shared. He sighed, sitting up. His collar popped itself back into place as he twisted his neck to face Vash. "Stop at the next village."

_Village? The signs we passed said nothing about a village…_Vash nodded his compliance. "Do you think it's much farther?"

Wolfwood was silent. He had already turned back toward the window and was staring out blankly. Though Vash couldn't see it in the pale reflection on the window, Wolfwood had a small piece of paper, about the size of a normal photograph, concealed in his hand.

Vash was surprised when the village appeared shortly, and even more surprised when he pulled into the outskirts. 

Wolfwood hopped out of the small jeep as it came to a stop and trudged himself over to a small cross poking out of the ground. Vash thought it rather disturbing, as it looked like a grave marker.

Kneeling, Wolfwood pulled out his handkerchief and dusted off the cross to reveal a name. To Vash's surprise, it was no man's name, but the name of the village. "Religion…" Vash breathed. _Why did we come here..?_

Wolfwood placed a hand on the cross and helped himself stand up. "Come on…" Wolfwood walked into the small village, stepping absentmindedly over a small keroneko that sprinted across with a small "Nyao…"

Vash looked to his solemn friend as a small breeze came up and ruffled his hair and trench coat, following suit shortly afterward.

Wolfwood let his hand fall limp at his sides, the other clutching the wrapped Punisher to his back, his eyes again fogged with memories as he trudged further into the small village. 

Vash had a slight struggle keeping with his companion's quick pace. He was tempted to ask him to slow down, but the tear rolling down his friend's cheek hushed him into solemn silence. _Why are you crying..? What is it that makes you cry, Wolfwood? What is it that touches your soul and rips at your heart?_

"Wolfwood…" Vash breathed, placing a hand on his friends shoulder, stopping him with a gentle squeeze. "Wolfwood, please… Tell me what's wrong…"

Wolfwood turned to his friend, his face a grave sea of tears.

Sitting in small shack Wolfwood had led them to, the two men sat in front of the fireplace, a small but steady fire burning, casting it's warm glow over the both and illuminating the tracks of Wolfwood's un-wiped tears. Taking a deep breath, Wolfwood began his tragic tale. "I was only five years old… My mother and I lived in a small cottage in what seemed like an even smaller village. We barely had enough food and money to keep the both of us alive… But we managed somehow.

"My mother had fallen ill…"

_"Nicholas?" the young boy ran to his mother as she called to him, her brown eyes sparkling as she looked into his exuberant smoke blue ones._

_"Yes mama?" he knelt down on the floor, next to his mother's mattress._

_With a smile she reached over and ruffled her son's hair, I would like you to go into the next town for me, Nicholas. You're a big boy, you can do it… The doctor there has some medicine. You need to go get it and bring it back for me…"_

"I was so excited. My first trip out alone…" Wolfwood sobbed a little, as Vash wrapped an arm around his friend. "She had such a hard time talking… Her voice came like a breath. I knew she was in pain, but she would never let me see it…"

With the heel of his palm, Wolfwood brushed away a few tears as they threatened to fall. "It took me so long to get to the next town… My little legs just got so tired… When I got to the doctor's office, he had me stay that night. He gave me something to soothe my burning legs. When he sent me home the following morning, I remember he gave me a red lollypop. 

"I remember that only because it was my mother's favorite color, and I had decided to save it for her…" Reaching into his pocket, Wolfwood pulled out a cracked, red sucker. Its stick was bent and dirty and some of the red candy had crumbled into a powder. Closing his hand around it, Wolfwood continued with his story.

"I never got to give it to her… I was so excited to be home that I can remember running up to the front door…"

_His quick pace slowed as he neared the front door of the small shack…The door had been kicked open and a shadow stood in the doorway. As if drawn by some overwhelming force, Nicholas kept walking towards his home. The shadow in his doorway stooped down and ruffled his hair whispering to him the way a snake whispers to its pray with its silver slited tongue. "She's okay now…"_

_His eyes grew wide as the smell of a smoking gun hit his nose, and pushing past the stranger he ran into the house, only to find his mother's lifeless body surrounded by a pool of her own blood. "MAMA!"_

"I can remember looking back at the man in the doorway… He was tall… Really tall. His hair was blonde, but not like yours. It was a pale, almost white blonde. His eyes were cold, really cold… And I know this is gonna sound silly…" Wolfwood looked to Vash, "But he had butterflies around him… Big yellow ones… It was… It was kind of scary.

"Don't remember much of what happened after that… Everything sorta just faded to black…" Wolfwood reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the picture he'd had in his hands on the drive over, "I woke up the next day in a town that would have taken a grown man four days to get to in a car. A priest at the orphanage there helped me find a new place to stay…

"I came back to 'Religion' when I was older… On the bulletin board outside city hall was a wanted poster for the capture of Vash the Stampede… He was wanted for the murder of my mother, and he had apparently kidnapped me."

Vash shifted in his seat. "I knew it wasn't you. I couldn't have been… It was me. I killed her…"

"Wolfwood…" Vash breathed, pulling lightly at the photo to get Wolfwood to release it. 

The paper slipped quietly from his hand as Wolfwood felt himself burst into sobs "It's all my fault. If I… If I had just stayed with her… She would still be… She would still be alive!" Wolfwood threw himself into Vash's chest and began to sob. For a brief moment, Vash thought he saw that little five-year old as he wrapped his arms around his tormented friend.

He glanced down at the picture in his hand and froze. _It can't be… It just can't be… Can it?_


End file.
